


Expected Reunions, Unhelpful Flashes of Childhood Insecurities and a Minor House Fire.

by MidnightJen



Series: Twenty Year Reunions [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Auror Harry Potter, Auror Ron Weasley, Curse Breaker Draco Malfoy, F/M, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Humor, M/M, Parent Draco Malfoy, Parent Harry Potter, Parent Ron Weasley, Redeemed Draco Malfoy, Reunions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-14
Updated: 2020-08-14
Packaged: 2021-03-05 18:53:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25890136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MidnightJen/pseuds/MidnightJen
Summary: At no point did Hermione mention she'd bumped into Harry - or Draco bloody Malfoy. Maybe is she had Ron would have been somewhat prepared for his friend popping up shirtless with actual abs and looking like he's got his whole life together and its amazing while Ron's just hiding behind his desk hoping to Merlin nobody judges him for the stash of Chocolate Frogs he keeps in the drawer and anyway, Hermione thinks his "dad bod" is very loveable thank you very much.A companion to Dubious Decisions, Tea with Malfoy & Unexpected Reunions.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley
Series: Twenty Year Reunions [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1878748
Comments: 19
Kudos: 204





	Expected Reunions, Unhelpful Flashes of Childhood Insecurities and a Minor House Fire.

**Author's Note:**

> Because Ron's own reunion with Harry really did need to be written.

Ron was fifteen again. In the blink of an eye he was all insecurities and awkward words and frankly he bloody hated it.

His first glimpse of Harry in almost twenty years and he hadn’t even recognised him. To be fair, he’d been in the middle of a tour of the auror department – which had come a long way from the one he remembered from right after the war – and he’d only caught a glimpse in at the training room where a shirtless man who was all broad shoulders and lean muscle was putting some new recruits through their paces. He remembered tattoos, wild hair and a sly grin and then he was moving on nodding approvingly at the many – many – changes that had been made to the DMLE and the Ministry itself since the war when he’d last been in England.

He didn’t think anything of it. He had a vague idea that his childhood best friend worked as an auror and he was looking forward to seeing him again, feeling a longing for things forgotten with time, and so he kept an eye on the reports that he’d been given, the ones he was told would get him up to speed on the current cases for his new Department, looking for the name Potter. He found a couple of cases he thought might have been Harry’s – but it was hard to tell because everything was labelled with initials in the briefs and he never did come across any HP’s written in them.

Still, he Ron figured that when he rocked up for his first day and held that first meeting with his aurors he’d get to see his old friend again and with the power he had as the new head of the department he could pull him aside for a quick word and a request for a catch up without having to make excuses for blowing off work for a bit of a chat.

He figured it would be awkward, but he was looking forward to it.

Still, there wasn’t any way he could have prepared for it. He’d been an auror for fifteen years. He’d been head auror in the Melbourne office for three, he knew how to run things, knew how to stand up and talk to a bunch of aurors about task division and updates and all the things you had to look forward to when your job was behind a desk and mostly paperwork.

He wasn’t nervous when he stepped out of his office and called attention with the quick and efficient use of _sonorous_. He was smiling, watching as heads poked out of offices and over the tops of cubicles. He had a speech all planned out and he managed to get through it with the quick efficiency he knew field aurors appreciated. But all the time his eyes were looking around the room, studying his new department – looking for the memory of messy hair and glasses with a lightning bolt scar.

He’d almost finished his little speech, only had the last bit about assignments to go, when his eyes skimmed over a head of dark messy hair. He clocked the hair as belonging to the auror he’d seen shirtless putting some recruits through their paces, and his eyes moved on.

And then jerked back.

His words faltered briefly but he managed the rest of his speech. He had no idea how. In a single jerky moment he’d gone from being the confident and authoritative head auror to a fifteen year old boy who never thought he’d be as strong or powerful or brave as his famous friend.

Someone clapped a hand on his back and then everyone was going about their jobs like normal except for the messy haired man who was Harry fucking Potter because he had a wide grin on his face as he walked toward Ron. In a desperate need to not be humiliated he nipped back into his office with a smile he thought was welcoming and dove behind his desk where he hoped the sturdy wood and gathering clutter of paperwork would hide the wobbly belly he’d developed over the years behind a desk. Would the light hide his thinning hair? And he knew Hermione said it was nothing, but Ron was aware he’d started developing a bald patch a month or so ago.

And then there was Harry, shutting the door and grinning at him and looking fit and young and tanned and Ron was the one who’d been in a sunny warm country why did he feel like a pasty blob?

‘Head auror, huh?’ Harry grinned, not seeming bothered by Ron hiding behind his desk because he dropped gracefully into one of the chairs opposite and kicked his feet up on Ron’s desk in a move so casual and well-practiced that Ron could imagine he’d done it a hundred time before – and somehow made him feel even more insecure.

Harry was wearing black jeans with a patch on one thigh, tears in the knees and black motorcycle boots. His dark green t-shirt showed off his eyes and his arms, which were up (fingers interlaced behind his head), were all lean muscle and tattoos that made Ron’s own arms feel like limp spaghetti. He just knew beneath that t-shirt Harry had actual abdominal muscles while Ron had simply let himself go, enjoying Mr Granger’s Sunday roast (and all the little snacks he liked to fill his desk drawer with) until he had what Hermione fondly called a “dad bod”.

‘Bloody hell,’ Ron blurted out. ‘Look at you!’

Harry – the bastard – grinned. ‘It’s been a long fucking time, Ron.’

He didn’t seem to have realised Ron meant that literally and not in the “I haven’t seen you in so long” kind of way – which thank Merlin. That would be embarrassing. Ron was perfectly secure in himself – well he had been – but he didn’t need Harry thinking (after twenty years) he was ogling the bloke. ‘Almost twenty years, mate,’ Ron agreed. And then, because honestly, he had to say it otherwise he was never going to be able to have a proper conversation he just went ahead and said, ‘No, sorry, this is ridiculous – what the hell happened to you? You have muscles! And tattoos! I think you’re a good foot taller than when I last saw you.’

Harry laughed, a nice big belly laugh, and Ron felt all the nerves and tension drain out of him.

‘Life’s been good,’ he answered, with another of those grins. ‘Really good.’

‘I’ll say,’ Ron muttered, eyeing the tattoos he could see. Harry made it easier for him by pulling his arms from behind his head and holding them out for Ron to admire. Ron caught the glint of a gold band on Harry’s ring finger. ‘Alright, lay it on me,’ he said. ‘Married.’ He pointed at the ring. ‘Kids?’

Harry, for some reason Ron couldn’t make sense of, seemed terribly amused. ‘Four kids. Two boys, two girls. Two at Hogwarts, two at home. You’ve got the two, yeah?’

Ron nodded, not stopping to question how Harry knew that. He was about to ask a question about Harry’s wife – was it someone he knew? – when the door popped open and the head of Ron’s assistant (Ron would later learn she was less his and more the only one who kept the department running because no one liked to do the paperwork) was poking around the door. Ron looked at her expectantly but she spoke to Harry instead.

‘Someone triggered one of the wards around the Galahad Estate, Potter,’ she informed Harry. ‘Malfoy’s on his way but he says, and I quote, “if this is that same arsehole kid again I’m going to string him up by his ankles and gut him” but he also said it’s a bit early for the McClean boy to be out of bed so could you send Rasika along if you’re done with the kid because,’ this part she said with a distinct roll of her eyes, ‘he could use the spell fodder.’

Ron, who had no idea what Malfoy had to do with anything – he didn’t work for the aurors, Ron knew that much – was taken aback by the easy way Harry rolled his eyes and dropped his feet to the floor as though he was going to get up and give this more attention than it needed. Ron also had no idea who Rasika was or why Malfoy – he was assuming it was Draco Malfoy they were talking about – would think it was okay to use him as spell fodder at something called the Galahad Estate.

Ron hadn’t gotten too deep in his reading before he’d been asked to start his new job early, so he was still behind on a lot of cases and the background of bits and pieces the department would be old hat at dealing with by now.

Harry got to his feet. ‘He can’t have Ras – I’ve got him babysitting a muggleborn at St Mungo’s. He can have Mickey – he likes her.’ He turned to Ron. ‘Drinks tonight?’ Harry asked.

Ron nodded, not even pausing to think about it.

And then an alarm started blaring, a sure sign something bad was happening somewhere the department was monitoring, and Harry dropped his head back with an exasperated sigh. When he looked over at Ron, though, he didn’t seem annoyed, there was a grin on his face and he said, ‘Better make it dinner. Friday?’

‘Potter!’ someone shouted.

‘I heard it!’ Harry shouted back. ‘The whole bloody department heard it,’ he muttered. To Ron he said, ‘Welcome back, mate.’

He was gone before Ron could say anything else and then he was so busy trying to catch up and learn the differences working for the British Ministry versus the Australian one that Friday rolled around without any other sign of Harry, although Hermione said she’d gotten an owl asking them to meet for dinner.

And if Ron took extra care dressing that evening for dinner then Hermione never noticed – mostly because he thought she was putting a little extra effort into her appearance too.

‘Where are we going, anyway?’ Ron thought to ask as he was checking one last time he’d gotten his wand and enough money to cover dinner.

‘It’s a muggle place,’ Hermione informed him. ‘Somewhere in London. Harry sent the address.’

‘Bugger,’ Ron muttered, removing the pouch of wizarding money from his pocket. ‘I don’t have any muggle money.’

Hermione waved off his concerns. ‘It’s fine. I got some.’

Ron eyed her suspiciously. ‘You’re not telling me something.’

Hermione bit her lip and tried not to look at him. ‘I had tea with Harry last week.’

‘You what?’ Ron repeated. ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’

At this Hermione giggled. Ron stared at her. ‘Oh Ron,’ she said, a little breathlessly, ‘you wouldn’t have believed me if I’d told you.’

‘Hermione,’ he said, ‘I’ve seen Harry. The guy looked like one of those instantgram models you think we don’t know you like to look at.’

‘Instagram,’ Hermione corrected, a little guiltily. ‘And I know,’ she agreed. ‘It’s ridiculous! What right does he have to be so fit?’

‘Don’t say that!’ Ron moaned. ‘I’ve barely eaten any chocolate frogs this week and it’s killing me.’

Hermione laughed and stepped up to give him a fond kiss. ‘I love you just as you are.’

‘Yeah,’ Ron smiled dopily, ‘but ‘Mione, Harry’s got muscles. And tattoos!’

Hermione gripped his arm tightly, preparing to side-along him. ‘He does,’ she confirmed.

‘Bloody hell,’ he grumbled, ‘I bet his wife is really pretty.’

For some reason, this time Hermione’s giggles seemed a little too amused, but he didn’t have time to question it before she was sucking him into the darkness of apparition and popping him out again in a poorly lit alley. They spent a few moments straightening their clothes and making themselves presentable – possibly too much but Ron wasn’t about to admit to feeling insecure right now.

They were the first to arrive and were directed to a nice well-lit booth toward the back. it wasn’t the sort of place Ron would have picked, more pub than restaurant the more he looked about, although the fancy upscale kind you had to book for – apparently.

They ordered drinks and chatted about Hugo’s new friendship with their muggle neighbour and were just starting to wonder if home schooling him for a year was the best idea when Harry dropped into the booth and slid across to the wall so he was opposite Hermione while his companion slid in beside him.

His companion who was Draco Malfoy. Draco. Malfoy. Pink hair, nose piercing, dressed like a fucking muggle. Still unmistakeably Draco Malfoy.

‘So Scorp set the house on fire,’ Harry stated drawing Ron’s attention. Though only briefly. Because. Malfoy. Draco Malfoy.

Who was looking mighty amused. Although his expression did sour a bit at Harry’s words.

‘Oh my god, he didn’t?’ Hermione laughed.

Ron didn’t know who Scorp was. He didn’t know why Hermione seemed to and he didn’t know why Draco Malfoy was apparently joining them for dinner.

‘Jeez, what’s with the face?’

Ron’s eyes jerked to the waitress who was giving Malfoy a quizzical look as she placed the drinks he and Hermione had ordered down on the table as well as some for Harry and Malfoy as well, even though he didn’t know when they’d have managed to order them.

‘Scorpius set the house on fire,’ Malfoy answered with a wry look, lifting the drink in a toast to her before he tossed back a large mouthful.

‘Well,’ she laughed. ‘Can’t say I didn’t see that coming.’ She patted him on the shoulder and wandered away.

‘A friend?’ Hermione asked.

‘Pansy’s sister-in-law,’ Harry answered. He shook his head. ‘You should have seen it ‘Mione. Everything was fine and then the cat came streaking out of the house, the bloody dog came running with a mouthful of pygmy puffs and Sesha slithered out with the tip of her tail on fire swearing up a storm – and you know snakes have some really good swear words and she’s only getting more foul-mouthed in her old age.’

‘Thank fucking Merlin, no one ever knows what Astara is saying,’ Malfoy put in.

‘I do!’ Harry protested but he was laughing. ‘Our six-year-old swears like a muggle sailor.’

Malfoy rolled his eyes, but he was grinning too. ‘I’m honestly a little proud.’

‘Oh, shut up,’ Harry snapped lightly. ‘Once we put Sesha’s tail out and rescued the pygmy puffs we had to go and put the house out.’ Harry was starting to sound less annoyed the more he talked and more amused.

Ron might have been amused too but he had no idea what the fuck was happening. And he still didn’t understand why Malfoy was there. Weren’t they supposed to be meeting Harry’s wife?

‘Honestly, the damage wasn’t all that bad, but he’s grounded for a week and we confiscated all of his potions equipment until Hogwarts.’

‘Isn’t that a bit harsh?’ Hermione asked. She had her desperately amused face on and she didn’t seem confused. Why didn’t she seem confused?

‘No,’ Malfoy answered flatly. He exchanged a look with Harry and then they both started laughing.

Ron didn’t get it. He didn’t get what was so funny. He didn’t get why they were laughing and he definitely didn’t get why Malfoy was here.

Music started to issue from across the table and Malfoy pulled a face. ‘Salazar, we’ve been here not ten minutes.’ And he slid out of the booth pulling a muggle phone from his pocket as he did so.

As soon as he was gone, Ron whipped around to look at Harry and hissed, ‘Mate, what the fuck is he doing here?’

Harry grinned, sharing an amused look with Hermione that Ron was immediately suspicious of. ‘Having dinner with us. Obviously.’

‘Why?’

‘Well,’ Harry said slowly, with a sparkle in his eye Ron didn’t trust one bit. ‘We needed a night out.’

‘A night out,’ Ron repeated with a frown.

‘You know how it is,’ he shrugged, mischievous grin making Ron frown warily. ‘Four kids, it’s not exactly easy to get out for a date.’

‘A what?’

‘Oh honestly,’ Hermione giggled. ‘Ron they’re married.’

‘No they’re not,’ he denied immediately.

‘’Fraid so, mate,’ Harry grinned. ‘Been together almost twenty years now.’

‘Love of your life, right?’ Hermione smiled widely.

Harry winked at her.

‘Merlin, you’re serious.’ Ron stared at his old friend and played the conversation back in his mind. ‘You and Malfoy are married. You’ve got four kids. Your son set your house – and your pet snake – on fire.’

‘Now you’re getting it,’ Harry sounded cheerful.

‘Right,’ Malfoy said, sliding back into the booth, ‘what did I miss?’

‘Ron realising we’re married.’

‘Oh. Well I suppose I got to be the one to surprise Hermione.’ Malfoy sounded slightly disappointed. He laid the phone on the table and Ron glanced down to see it wasn’t a muggle phone after all but one of the very expensive new wizarding models that were starting to become popular.

Ron didn’t have a clue how they worked, only that they were starting to come out of America and something about a deal with a pear and a runic discovery that let magic and technology work together. Rose had started begging him for one the moment she’d heard they existed. But though they weren’t exactly struggling to make ends meet they certainly didn’t have the money to waste on something so fancy and frivolous.

Not like Malfoy apparently did.

Which, Ron might have been focusing a little too hard on something so insignificant just so he didn’t have to think about his friend and their childhood bully shagging.

Blugh. He’d had enough of thinking about Harry and his Malfoy issues when they were kids. He’d thought it was bad enough now that it seemed they worked together occasionally. This was…

Wait.

‘Ugh, you were horribly obsessed with him for years,’ Ron moaned. ‘I’m just realising how much easier my life would have been back then if you’d just started shagging.’ He turned to look at Hermione. ‘How much more sleep do you think I’d have gotten sixth year if Harry could have been looking at Malfoy instead of his bloody dot on the map?’

Hermione burst out laughing while Harry managed an offended, ‘Hey!’

Ron grinned. ‘Alright then, tell me how all this happened.’

Harry smiled, ‘Right,’ he looked at Malfoy fondly, eyes alight with love that sort of made Ron want to gag but reminded him sweetly of the way Hermione looked at him sometimes. ‘I think it probably started that time I caught you naked…’


End file.
